The proverbial you-know-what

The proverbial you-know-what

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Christmas at dad's house

I hope a thunderbolt doesn't strike me down for this entry. I accompanied my sister-n-law, brother, an all 7 of their kids to my Dad's for a post Christmas get together. My Dad and I are not close, and my brother is his favorite child. I have accepted it. I mean what does a person do? My father is 79, and it seems like he is gonna live forever. He's probably healthier than I am. And just in case something were to happen I need to see him because he is my father. I love the man I knew as a small child. Someone who took me to sporting events and as Santa getting me cars as well as dolls for Christmas in the past.
  Dad worked as a metorologist for many years, doing the local weather reports on the radio as well. But he's conservative, and I know he wanted me to make him proud. But I took my own little personal detours, occasionally thinkng I was making him proud. But he was critical and hard to please, and I was always a seeking that approval.
  One thing I have learned is that I have to take my own journey. If I'm going to try and please others, I'll always be miserable. My brother made it as the favored child, he's a family man who gave him grandchildren, and is a cop. An honored profession.
  Oh, another thing about my father. He is proud of my brother at one time having a mistress. Her picture is in his house. Not a picture in sight of me. Sometimes I wonder if he has found out that I have been involved with women. Talk about scorn.
So I now accept that dad is who he is. At the risk of soundng like Yoda, I have by writing this, let go of my anger. More reflections to come.....

Sunday, December 19, 2010


Pardon me if this seems blusy and melodramatic, but it's how I get sometimes

I'm searching my lost soul
Searching for the light
Life's been a struggle
I'm losing my fight

Trying to please everyone
I've got to step back
And search my reflection
For the source of my lack

Running won't help me
Can't run from myself
Too many wasted years
Sitting on a dusty shelf

Like a wounded bird
Tried to fly straight and narrow
But I'm bent and oh so crooked
Still feeling the pierce of the arrow


This past year was my so-called fall from grace. It's time to get back to where I was before. Having another twitter personality, taking pictures of my nude body, and wondering why I didn't get the respect and love I wanted was a stupid move. My friend yesterday said chalk it up to a learning experience. And I learned much. I learned how NOT to live. I have since deleted it, and all the pictures. I'll have to live with the consequences of my actions. An ex friend of mine told me that the pictures may come back to haunt me at some point, but I'm moving forward.
  And it hasn't been easy. Divorced this year, having no job prospects except what a temp agency has given me, and getting contributions from men who thought of me as nothing but a whore. One I was gonna meet up with this year. I decided not to, he asked me when he was going to get to use and abuse my body. Sick.
  What ever happened to the aspiring writer and poet? I'm getting my life back in order. However much work is going to have to be done on myself, and writing about my crazy life is a part of it. Many of my poems will be posted on this blog.
  So here I am in Podunk USA. My car was towed away couple of days ago because I didn't have the money to pay on a title loan. It was sitting dead in the driveway anyway. I'm forced to drive my mother's car  and have to share it now.  Is there a light at the end of this tunnel? Or is it another freight train? Will I get the work I need? Or will will I rot here another year? One thing is certain. I refuse to go back to being what I was this past year.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010


I'm going to try not to use cliches. But the name of this blog is based on one.The poverbial light at the end of the tunnel being may a freight train for this woman. I am also wearing my black sheep shoes. Gonna try to be witty and charming along the way. Sometimes. And this is the beginning of an interesting journey. Climb on board, we are about to roll.